An Alluvial Mine has been discovered within the grounds of Soul Food and it is opening for sturdy miners who know that to find creative gold you have to be prepared to dig deeply. These miners also know that there is gold to be found in the tailings and so they become expert gleaners who may find gold by taking a phrase and reworking it.

Friday, June 24, 2005

For 'believer' -- "Earth Pride" extended

RAGE

When they came, there were no monstrous ships, or light displays or churning clouds. No show of strength or attempted contact with those who have assumed control of our world. They just were here! Their appearance was unfamiliar enough that all would know they were not earthly bound -- Terran that is, for all species have an 'earth'. Yet, they were familiar enough that all would know of their humanity, if we speak of a common bond of all sentient things. The Farlin. Actually, they appeared slightly differently to each of us, as part of their communication was ingrained in emotional reflection. One thing was uniquely and universally disturbing. They had no fear, and therefore generated no fear. They were neither friend nor foe -- the terms simply did not apply. For men, given our history, nothing to fear meant nothing to love either. With neither love nor fear to direct or divert our passions, emotions quickly turned to hatred. That is why the Farlin were here. They did not understand! Of all the creatures in the galaxy's sweep, only Man turned hatred into a religion.

We never knew if they were few or many, as all Farlin looked the same and somehow shared a common memory of events and human interaction. They understood our attempts at communication, regardless of language used. We could understand them also -- sort of. Ideas were exchanged through a combination of emotional flux, shifting body hues and tinkling music. It was a type of telepathy, I guess, but not 'in the mind' as much as 'of the mind'. Nothing obtrusive. Perhaps they could have read my mind if they wished. Beyond effort? Beneath effort? Actually, they had severe limitations. They weren't really here at all!

We came to understand that they laughed at our attempts to construct physical capsules of air and food to bridge the planet pace and the expanding wealth of stars. It was economically impossible! Any expenditures in such folly obviously depleted resources more useful in other ways. Food from the mouths of children? Conquering of disease? Contemplation of God's glory? They never gave guidance. It was clear our choices were a matter of maturity. Time was the essential element that would destroy our vain desires to reach beyond, and out, and new! No useful life should be expended on a century journey in a steel coffin just to satisfy curiosity. Not when an hour of internal contemplation could open worlds of discovery. Not when the mind could be trained to embrace many traces of thought and dream at once. Life is too short. Of course, life has little value to most men -- even their own. If I have nothing important to do, I may as well build a spaceship, no?

The Farlin, and others, had learned to send their intellect across the unfathomable drift of galactic dust. More importantly, only part of their mental effort was expended in the process -- there were more important tasks to attend to. Children had to be coached in how to make the flowers grow. Emotions from thousands of spirits, near and far, had to be blended into symphonies. Each being had to spend an eternity in seeking a balance between the force and attraction of willful control, and the simple blending of will with the pulse of chaos that Guides. The sending out, the mission to another star, was not instantaneous. It had taken about fourteen of Terran years to reach us, drawn by the vibrations of our hatred. Each attending Farlin set part of his (heash?) mind to the effort, perhaps as a type of hobby. They had curiosity too -- it just had nothing to do with control. We were a mirror in which they could observe themselves in a new light, a new passion. They meant to give nothing and take nothing away. For them, man called to man, species to species. It just was!

It has been years since I felt the brush of peaceful emotional caress. They have moved on. New religions have started up to deify their 'second coming'. Old religions have sought to integrate or deny. The Farlin Passing is now relegated to a historic phenomenon, or epiphenomenon, depending on the state of your soul. Soon it will be myth or legend or parable. No one expects them to return. Why bother? If we want more, we will have to learn to 'send out'. The feverish chase to physically jump the void had lessened a bit, but it is truly driven by monetary greed more that life enhancement. World strife has lessened a bit, fueled by a drop in birth rate more than any lesson of compassion. Hatred, if anything, has increased, though it seems more directed toward emotional posturing than violence. We should be brought together in common bond now that we know that we are not alone -- that 'in God's image' is a matter of mind and spirit, not form. I sense that until we leave this chrysalis of despair behind we will never extend beyond our untrusting thoughts. We clothe our bodies in shame. We cloak our spirits in shame.

Well, we were sent the prophets and oracles and Christ and Mohammed and Buddha and Chief Joseph and Mother Theresa - more. Now the Farlin. Will we ever learn?

2 Comments:

Will we ever learn? Perhaps not. Each new generation has to learn and relearn what (some of) the previous generation only gets as they are about to make their exit. One thing I'll tell ya'the questions keep getting harder. Thanks for continuing this piece.

I've found a website, www.theglobalist.com that is, as Mr. Spock used to say, fascinating.Lots of questions about the state of our world from many different points of view. You might like it.

Me again. I'm not a poet, but I can sense a poem from you or Winnie in "drawn by the vibrations of our hatred". Strange, but as I read it for the first time I had a clear image of the old musical West Side Story.